Diurnal
by Brittney.Blackout
Summary: Diurnal means day. Jasper Whitlock thrived in the day. This is the Jasper Whitlock's story from the beginning of his life.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:do not own these characters, the wonderful stephanie meyers does. I wish she would just give me Jasper though, just for a half n hour

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"Let's name him Jasper."

Jasper could mean a few different things or just a name that his mother decided on.

His name could first be defined as an opaque, impure variety of quartz, usually red,yellow, or brown in color. It was easy to tell if Jasper was named after the mineral then it was the yellow Jasper that he was never after, since he had the beaming, bright blonde hair.

Jasper is a county in Texas but that wasn't even close to wear the Whitlock's lived, but maybe his mama read it on a map and it suck out to her.

Jasper can be used as a term for a hopeless lover as well.

Personally Jasper believed he was named after the mineral the yellow Jasper, which turned out to be his mother's favorite gemstone.

Then nearly six months after he had a name Jasper Whitlock was born.

The year was 1843 and the Texas humidity was flaring, the day Jasper was born.

Jasper Whitlock was never a fussy baby, his emotions were kept under control for the most part and they never got to the extreme. Jasper's parents always wondered how a boy never cried or threw tantrums.

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Jasper's first human memory was he was six or seven, a few years late of the normal age to start encoding memories. The sky was grey, but the air was hot and sticky. Thunder crackled and lighting danced in the sky. Water started to fall from the clouds and Jasper could hear the neighborhood children saying it was raining. Jasper looked at them like they were stupid. A few drops falling hardly counted as rain, it was more of a drizzle per say.

But anyway, the thunder shook the small houses that already were hardly able to stand, and the loud cracks the thunder made, frightened the mother's of the neighborhood. Jasper ignored his mother's calls of urgency to come inside but started walking to the tall oak tree at the end of the lane. Timothy a local bully, who always picked on Jasper was sitting atop a tree branch. As he approached it a bright flash of lighting, lit up the sky and in seconds the oak tree was ablaze.

Jasper's mother became frantic and was screaming for her son to get away from the tree, but Jasper was mezmorized, you could say. Jasper watched the kid burn,screaming for help, falling to the ground in flames and then the screaming stop. Jasper stared at this kid, half burnt flesh still intact and then half ash lying less than ten feet away from his own feet. Jasper's mother came over tears streaming down her face telling her son how everything will be ok. But Jasper didn't need reassurance then, he wasn't sad that Timothy died.It was kinda weird though how he hated Timothy so much and seeing him acting cocky in that tree filled Jasper with so much rage,that it felt like he was burning alive and yet seconds later his enemy was dead.

Jasper's mother was always a little overprotective and nosy; but that just made Jasper more withdrawn and quiet. Jasper did his schoolwork, played outside with local kids, and helped with the land just to please his mother. While he rather of been in his room, reading or playing war with his imaginary friend. Jasper didn't like to show his emotion and he didn't feel comfortable when other people did.

Emotions had been one of the things, Jasper never quite understood. Like how all emotions were connected really,you could easily say how sadness, lead to fear, and how led to anger, and so on and so forth.He didn't know why some people repressed their emotions while others just let them flow freely for the world to see. Aren't are emotions private things, that our just ours?

Jasper mother always worried about how he didn't show his emotions, but she didn't want to question him.

Jasper was ten when he first saw his father abuse his mother. No, he didn't hit her, he abused her emotionally. Pushing every button,poking and proding at every weakness. Jasper's mother was never a strong woman emotionally or pyshically for that matter. Jasper's mother seemed to put everyone before herself, trying not to hurt their feelings and not worrying about her own. Jasper watched from behind the kitchen door as his father picked up a plate from the cabinet, almost inspecting it.

His father let out a low chuckle before spitting on the plate.

"You can't clean,Emma. The one thing you have to do is clean this house, and you can't clean a plate."

"I..I.. I.. have to take care of the children."

"Child, and Jasper is just a waste of life. He has no emotion, kind of like you." With that his father dropped the plate shattering it on the floor and walked out the door.

It seems more like Verual abuse really, but within seconds of his father's dissaperence his mother broken down in tears. His mother had lost two children before Jasper they were still-born. But his mothers knees seemed to crumble beneath her and her body practically threw herself to the floor. She laid on the cool dirt floor tears staining her face and dress. Jasper cracked open the door more and took a look at his mother, she looked as broken as the plate on the floor. Jasper tried to walk silent across the floor, but being a ten year old he hadn't mastered that craft yet.

His mother looked up and tried to act like nothing was wrong, but Jasper just shook his head.

"It's going to be ok mom." Jasper said pulling the hankerchief from his pocket and leaning next to his mother.

Emma leaned toward her son and cried in his chest, while Jasper just sat their stiff as a board trying to calm her down. He blotted away her tears, sshed her, ran his fingers through his hair. You would think this was going to be a oedious complex but no, Jasper just wanted his mother out of pain. Her tears began to fall at a slower rate and her breath became more relax and calm. Jasper helped his mother off the floor and knelt back down to get the broken shards of the plate.

Jasper never got on with his father after that, his father seemed to believe he worked to hard when he had slaves supposed to be doing their jobs. His father always had to be reminded who held the dominance over his household. Jasper worked in the fields along with the slaves was ordered around like he was in the army. The high point of his relationship with his father was when he was fifteen and his father said he was happy that Jasper never showed emotion.

"Son, I'm glad you don't show emotion, showing emotion is such a girl thing to do. Your a man. Your my son."

Jasper wanted to laugh in his father's face, but he decided against it. Jasper didn't want to be his son, life just worked out that way. But when his father touched his shoulder and pulled his son into a hug Jasper hugged him back. It felt good to be loved, a smile almost spread across Jasper's face, but catching his emotions his expression turned stern.


	2. Chapter 2

Jasper's sixteenth birthday threw him into an emotional tail spin. He felt like he was sat upon a horse, and it began to buck furiously; trying to knock Jasper to the ground; but somehow his father was holding him to that horse with Iron fists or something of the sort and just watched as Jasper flung about. His stomach was caught in his throat and he was gasping for air.

This past year had been a rough ride for the Whitlock's, well techincally for Jasper and his mother. Jasper's mother had become more emotionally detached then before, and it nearly ripped Jasper's heart from his chest. His father decided that his little brain prodding, emotional tourment wasn't quite enough; to punish his wife for being the stupid bitch she was; those were his words not Jasper's.

Jasper wished everyday since before he could remember that he could make him Mama happy, he swore to everything that was holy that if his Mama could be happy he would give his life.

His father had become meaner, more bitter, and more addicted to the whiskey he keep around the house. His nightly screaming at his wife, had made Jasper feel like a coward, hiding in his room, biting the inside of his cheek and making blood pool into his mouth. Jasper refused to show emotion. But late at night, he could share one emotion with himself. Fear. He knew at that point he was techincally a teenager, and he was just being silly, acting like a scared girl. Worried that one day his father would become so damn beligerant and snap, killing is mother and Jasper with his bare hands.

Jasper didn't have anyone to rationalize his fears with, because no one understood what he was going through. His father mocking him day in and day out. Jasper knew he could handle it, he knew he had to; his mother was a different story.

Jasper was awaken before the sun even rose on his birthday, his father nearly tossing him off his bed. Jasper could already tell that his father had already started with his vice this morning. Jasper's father hollered for him to get up, get dressed and get outside.

"Just because it's you damn birthday doesn't mean you get you sit on your ass all day. Two more years till your a man and you better prepare yourself to be one."

Jasper didn't have time to rub the sleep from his eyes, as he rushed to get out the door, and start doing work outside. He saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table cradling her arm, and when she looked up as he passed her eyes held nothing. No life at all. His father left for work an hour later already half way drunk.

The sun was already at it's highest point in the sky, when Jasper's mama called him into the house. She laid out small lunch and a glass of iced tea.

"Happy Birthday, baby. Eat up. I know you have to be starving."

To be honest, Jasper was. But he shook his head as he took a bite of his food.

"Ma, you didn't have to go about making me food. I would have came in and made it, if i needed to."

"No, baby. It's alright. It's your birthday. Just eat up and get out the kitchen or you'll ruin your suprise."

Jasper smiled up at his mother, and she smiled back wiping her hands on her apron.

Jasper wished it was like this, just the two of them. Not having to worry about the fury that his father brought home everyday.

The day went on without a worry, Jasper worked outside, and his mother kept him out the kitchen. He knew that she was making him a small cake, about the size of both his fists. She did that every year, it was a tradition of sorts, and Jasper never asked for anything more. He didn't ask for presents, he didn't ask for money, he didn't ask for much of anything actually. He was happy with a cake, but he never seemed to get more than one bite of it, swallowed before everything went to hell.

Jasper had prepared himself for the same thing to happen this year. His father coming home drunk, complaing about the food, saying that both his wife and son was good for nothing, telling Jasper that his birthday was nothing to celebrate. Then the hollerin started.

This year was no different. Just as Jasper swallowed his first piece of cake, and was ready to put another in his mouth his father slammed the plate to the floor and let out a laugh. His mother flinched as the pieces of plates went flying and Jasper bit his cheek.

"You are good for nothing." He started nearly knocking the table over when he pounded his fist on it. His chair clattered to the floor as he stood up and grabbed his wife by the arm.

"You slave away in my kitchen, in my house, making a cake for him." He spat pointing a chubby finger in Jasper's direction. His mother mouthed leave the room, and as much as he wanted to stay, he got up a fleed. He heard the crashes from downstairs, and her cries; as he tried to block it out. Tried to stop feeling the pain running through his veins, the anger thudding inside his heart; the terror that shook his whole body.

Jasper hated himself for being so scared.

His mother for letting this happen.

But most of all he hated his father for doing this, and that hate ran through his whole body.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry, I know I haven't updated in forever. I know it's short but i'm already working on chapter four.

Disclaimer: I don't own him, oh but How i wish I did.

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Not even two months after his sixteenth birthday, Jasper's father was sent away to go fight in the confederate army. He wasn't even gone six weeks, before Jasper and his mother received a letter. He didn't shed a tear when they read it, Jasper actually had to hide a smile. He knew his father wouldn't last long out in that war. His father was dead in some field somewhere, and Jasper couldn't find it in himself to care; for the first few days at least. But his mother wept day after day, Jasper couldn't understand how she felt grief for the man that abused her, and never really cared for her. But then one day Jasper let one tear escape his eye, and cascade down his cheek; he understood that his mother loved him, through the better and the worst.

Three months before his seventeenth birthday Jasper decided, that he was going to go join the confederate army. Not to avenge his father, and he knew whole-heartily that, there wasn't a fraction of himself that was signing up for that. He was signing up because, he wanted to make something of himself; he wasn't going to watch his south, wither away. He knew that he could change the portion of army that was in Texas, he knew that he could be a good solider; he had to be.

The only Jasper felt uncertain about was leaving his mother. He wasn't sure if losing him would officially break her. But he could tell that when she looked at him everyday, her heart broke into more pieces. He was just a reminder of her husband, the man she loved that tore her apart and left her. He just wanted his mother to be happy, but she wasn't sure if she could ever be happy again.

So in the dark of night, he packed a bag stuffing in only the bare essentials. Then he sat down to the table, the candlelight flickered off the walls and gave Jasper minimal light. The cicadas chirped outside the windows, and the leaves on the trees rustled with the light breeze. A drop of ink dripped off the pen, as his hands shook and palms became sweaty. He wasn't frighten or nervous about going to join the army, or to even write the letter to his mother; he was scared of her reaction to come. Even though he wouldn't be here to witness her reaction, he figured his imagination was more tame then what may really happen when she read this. Jasper sucked in a deep breathe of air and began to write.

'Mama' he started, his letters shaky

_As you read this, I will be on my way to being joining the army. I can barely stand to see the look in your eyes everyday you see me. Please, do not cry over me; I will be fine. I promise. You were the greatest mother, you could have been, and I will always be thankful for that._

Jasper had to pause for a moment, pretending that the words won't be smudged with tears as his mother will read this.

_Please, do not come after me, I will be to far gone by then. I am doing this for you mama, and for myself. I do not see another way. I am trying to give you true happiness, I want you to find it for yourself. I will hardly have time to write, and how says that you will still be in the house, if I do get a chance. Mama, this may be the last time, we ever have any communication. I do not think that we may ever cross paths again. But I would like you to know, that I love you, from the bottom of my heart; and I will miss you._

_Sincerely your son,_

_Jasper._

Jasper dropped the pen back into the ink,and stood up appruptley. He grabbed his bag, and looked swiftly around his house for the last time. This place had been his house for nearly seventeen years, now it was time to go find himself a home.

Jasper walked into the warm night air, and down the dirt road ready for his life to change.


End file.
